


For the Love of a Solider

by writtenthroughtime



Category: Outlander (TV), Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: F/M, Prompt Fic, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-28
Updated: 2016-07-05
Packaged: 2018-04-28 15:41:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 15,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5096099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writtenthroughtime/pseuds/writtenthroughtime
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Word Prompt from my Blog:  AU where Jamie and Claire are in the 1940s. Claire is a nurse and Jamie a Scottish solider. Both trying to fight their attraction but can't help falling in love anyways.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. My Darling

_ 3 April 1945 _

_ My Darling, _

_ I write to you now in the most deprivable of states: Soul torn and heart empty. Has it really been three years since our last touch? It feels as though lifetimes have passed since I last laid eyes upon you and held you in my arms. _

_ My arms ache to hold you once again, my heart longing to become full with the love I only ever experience when you are with me, and oh how my soul is in tatters awaiting to be reunited with it’s other half. To be whole once more is the wish I so desperately crave. _

_ My next leave has not been spoken of and I’m not sure when I will be able to reunite with you, or for that matter where I could meet. Security as it is, my location is not allowed to be discussed as I know neither is yours. Please, know this my darling, no matter where you are sent, you carry my heart and I will be there with you. _

_ This blasted war has done nothing but tear everything and everyone apart! If only we could put an end to this war. I fear that the end is no where in sight and it pains me to know I cannot aid you to ensure your safety. Day after day, each battle brings in more carnage than the next. I pray that you are and will remain safe throughout the rest of however long this hell lasts. _

_ Promise me you will come back to me. I don’t know what I would do if I could never hear your voice, see your smile, gaze into the depths of your eyes, or touch the soft strength of your body again. _

_ I love you. _

_ Yours, _

_ Always, _

_ Claire _

 

 

 

With one last longing gaze at the paper, now dotted from my tears, I closed my journal and held it close to my aching heart. Never will I be able to send this letter. Never will the man who holds my heart know of the pain and love he has most inadvertently caused.

Hastily wiping the remaining tears from my face I lock my secrets in my footlocker. “Get a grip Beauchamp!” I berated myself.

It has been three years since I had met the young, fiery Captain James Fraser. Three years… three long years of burning. Burning for a man I barely know, yet feel as though my soul has known him for as long as time itself.

I often wonder what has become of Jamie during the battles and years since he was last in my care. A dark part of me already mourns him, as though he is already among the hundreds lost in this bloody godforsaken war. Deep down I know it not to be true, but it would be so much easier, yet harder, if it were the truth. I should not be longing for this man, nor should I even encourage my own musings of our reuniting. Oh! How my heart aches for our reuniting with every beat. How someone can overtake your very being in such little time as we had had and with such ferocity! One month was all that it took, one month for me to fall helplessly in love, and one month for me to be all too willing to throw my marital vows out the window.

My husband, if he knew the musings that ceaselessly bombard my mind, I’m positive would lash out at the person who has stolen my affections. Frank was my first love. He has always been devoted, caring, and loving; the perfect husband. My heart has betrayed him and I cannot reconcile it no matter how hard I try. Trying to stop loving Jamie is like not breathing, painful and dizzying. Whereas loving Frank, was effortless and a sliver of my heart will always love him, but now it’s strained and trying to love him as I should, is like attempting to walk waist-deep through thick, clay filled mud.

“Nurse Randall!” The sound of the young orderly snapped me out of my thoughts. “We need you to come to the trauma tent immediately. Another wave of bombing victims!”

 Sighing I cleared my mind and prepared to focus on the task I was needed for, “I’m on my way.”

 ————————

The sight of the mangled young men I had attended to still etched across my eyelids: Blood everywhere, torn skin gaping from massive gashes, bones protruding from their encasement, limbs missing. One soldier in particular made me stop dead in my tracks. The top of his back flayed open from shrapnel and his hair in the light almost looked red. I couldn’t breathe. Gasping I turned and ran from the tent needing as much distance and fresh air as possible.

Jamie.

Instead of the yankee, blonde haired solider on the cot, I saw my Jamie. Not as he was in my minds eye from the last time I saw him, instead as when I first met him, laying face down, passed out from shock and blood loss in a cot on my section of the tent. His back ripped open in crisscrossing patterns from neck to waist and the blood oozing down his sides in steady red rivers. I didn’t know then that he would soon become a friend, and then a hopeful lover.

It took myself, one surgeon, and two other nurses four hours to remove all of the shrapnel that had damaged his back while carefully cleansing the wounds and ebbing the flow of his blood. For two weeks I had watched over him while his cuts slowly healed, even with penicillin and ointment the deeper gashes became infected causing him to break out into a frightening fever. He would become conscious for a few minutes at time, just enough for us to get his name, unit and division: Captain James A.M.M. Fraser of the 46th Black Watch, the Royal Highland Regiment. I didn’t know why but it felt like it was my duty to sit with this soldier to make sure he was returned to full health. After my rounds I would sit by his side, tracing his features with my eyes and wondering about the man it belonged to.

I’ll never forget the day I was caught admiring his form by none other than Jamie Fraser himself.

 

It had been two days since his fever had broken, and twelve hours since he last gained consciousness. “He’s going to make it,” I kept telling myself, “I’ll make sure of it.” I studied his face, smooth and relaxed with reddish golden hair curling across his forehead— he almost looked childlike while he slept on, raking my gaze over the gauze covered back to his rounded backside, a nice backside at th—

“Are ye going to stare at my arse all night without giving your name or are ye going to introduce yourself?” A deep Scottish burr rumbled.

Jumping in my chair and blushing I looked down sheepish at getting caught.

“I dinna mean to startle you. It’s just when ye have an angel looking at ye, ye typically want to know their name and if it’s heaven ye’re in.” Looking at his face was the wrong thing to do, his eyes were smiling just as wide as him mouth, only endless pools of deep blue that you could easily get lost in.

“Well I don’t know about angel, but my name is Claire Beauch—Randall and you’re currently in a British Army hospital tent in the northern part of France.

“Ah, so that’s why everything hurts. Not heaven, not hell… but close enough.” His tone relaying a little humor, from where I have no idea. Here this man is bloody and beaten and cracking a smile where some of us can hardly manage a lift from a corner of our mouths.

“Have you been helping me long? I canna remember how I got here. One minute I was looking at my cousin Rupert, the next searing pain and darkness…”

The anguished expression on his face would have made my knees give and buckle had I been standing. Reaching over I laid a hand on his arm in what I hoped would be a silent comfort.

“I was here when they brought you in just over two weeks ago on February 15th. What we can tell from your injuries, you were in close proximity to a bomb when it went off. Shrapnel cutting open your back is what caused the pain you’re now experiencing. You gave us quite a scare there for a while.”

“Shrapnel huh? And only my back flayed? I seem to have gotten off easy.” His smile faded quickly, “you didn’t have to remove a limb and I didn’t come in missing one, or something did I?”

The scared expression that seemed so out of character for him made me bark out a laugh, “No. No limbs or -uh- appendages missing. You’ll have scarring but other than that we see no reason you won’t be back to your normal self in no time.”

A sheepish and sleepy smile covered his features and a whispered “Good,” was said before he drifted back off into a deep slumber.

   

Smiling to myself I remembered how the rest of the time he was there went. Small talk conversations of trivial nonsense and some about the war developed into talks of our families, childhoods, likes and dislikes. He knew about Frank. He saw the ring on my left hand, gold glinting in the light from the lanterns in the tent. When he asked, I told him everything about my relationship with Frank; the ups the downs, how he would write every so many months and we hadn’t seen each other since the war started. Never again did he ask about Frank nor did I feel inclined to bring him up. Together we were plain Claire and Jamie, nothing more nothing less.

I can’t say when my affections for him became more than minor friendly attraction to something more carnal and intense. Slowly building over the hours talking, days spent healing one another, weeks with small seemingly innocent touches followed by the reddening of skin in an embarrassed flush. We both were trying to hold back what we were developing. I was married. Taken. No longer able to freely give myself even when I had begun to desperately want to do so.

Nearly a month since he had woken and four days since he gained the flexibility to twist without immense pain; A new line was drawn. One, that once it was drawn, would solidify and I would never be able to cross again…

 

He had healed enough and it was time he rejoined his unit the surgeon who was assigned to his case had told me that morning. My stomach felt as though a lead cannon ball had been dropped into it. The dread overtaking me was all consuming and terrifying. Would I ever see him again? Will this be the last full day I will see him alive? Does he love me as I have….Dear God help me, as I have started to love him?

I couldn't see anything as I walked slowly to the ward where he had been moved. The field camp a blur of cream, brown, and green. I hadn’t noticed I was at the tent where he was until the flap moved and my gentle-hearted and fierce Scot lifted my chin to look him in the eyes.

“What’s wrong Sassenach? You look as though you’re walking to your death.”

The tears stinging my eyes were not welcomed. I didn’t want to cry not now, not in front of him. Sniffling and trying to keep the tears from spilling over I said, “Doctor McTavish said it’s time for you to return to your regiment. He thinks y-y-you are healed enough t-t-to return to active duty.” What I couldn’t control was the quavering of my voice. My heart is tearing into shreds and he knew it. Pulling me into the comfort of his embrace he smoothed my hair with one hand while the other anchored me to him.

“Dinna fash, Sassenach. If that’s what the doctor says then who am I to disobey orders? I’ll be needing you to do something for me while I’m gone ok?”

Nodding my head against his chest he continued, “Look at me please Claire, for what I have to tell you I want to look you in the eye to do it.” Bracing myself for the worst I took a deep breath and looked into his ocean blue eyes. “I need you to take care of yourself. You’re out here in the thick of the battle tending to men who need your care, but who is taking care of you? For me, Sassenach, please take care of yourself. Take care of yourself and know that as long as you do, you’re also taking care of me.”

“Jamie, what—“

“I love you Sassenach and if you’re safe and whole then I will be too.”

Tears streamed more freely down my face as he spoke. He loves me, and I have to give him up. I love him and I have to give him up. Nothing I can do can change the fact he may be killed and nothing I can do can bring him back to me.

Before I could say I loved him his lips were on mine, soft and yielding, yet powerful and strong. I never got to say goodbye. He had said he was sorry, kissed my forehead and left. I had stood by the opening of the tent for over ten minutes contemplating what I should do next. My heart was screaming at me to chase after him but my brain said leave him be and that’s what I did.

 

To this day I regret allowing him to leave without saying I love you.

“Claire.”

Hearing my name whispered so soft it could be mistaken for the wind whistling through the tent flaps. A small smile on my lips imagining that it’s Jamie’s voice I hear calling out to me in the wind.

“Claire!”  


This time my name was said with more force causing my head to turn instinctually.  


There standing less than a meter away was Jamie.


	2. Calm Before the Storm

It has to be a dream, it has to be a dream, it has to be a dream. He can’t really be there.

“Oh but I’m not a dream, Sassenach.” With the lightest of touches Jamie’s hand cupped my cheek. At his touch a combination of euphoria, relief, safety, and love swirled through me at an indescribable rate.

“You’re here.”

“Aye I am. Ye’re not the only one feeling like they’re seeing a dream. Three years now I’ve seen ye when I knew I was gonna die or craved yer touch. To see ye whole, to speak and ye be able to reply, and to be able to finally touch ye… it’s more than what I’ve dreamed of.” He gripped my waist and almost reverently touched his forehead to mine.

“You’re not the only one who has been longing.”

A faint smile touched his lips, “Oh-ho! And just what have ye been longing for?”

“You.” His smile widened, “I’ve been longing for you all this time. The way you left… I never got to tell you goodbye, I never got to tell you that—”

“Please don’t. Don’t say it.” His smile gone, a look of crushing sadness overtook his beautiful face.

“You don’t even know what I was going to say! Don’t tell me what I can and cannot do!”

“If ye were to tell me that ye didna love me it would break my heart here and now, if ye were to tell me that ye did love me it would hurt even worse because knowing that and at the same time knowing I canna have ye as my own would be like ripping myself in two.”

“Jamie…” Whispering I gently touched his face knowing the pain he is feeling. What can we do? I do love him and knowing that and not being able to act upon it fully is tearing my heart, my person, my soul, my entire being apart! With the end of this war nowhere in sight, what do we do?

“Dinna fash Sassenach, I will be fine not knowing.” I wanted to scream at him ‘but don’t you already know?’ Pulling apart he looked down avoiding eye contact when he asked his question.

“Have ye talked to Frank since the last time we saw each other?”

Nodding I said, “I have, twice. We were able to see each other two years ago and again three months ago. He writes when he can, which isn’t often but he tries. He has changed…,” Furrowing my brow I continued, “He’s different.”

“Different ye say? How? Is he not the man ye fell in love with?” I know what he was doing, trying to see where the relationship stands, if we—if he had a chance to be with me.

“It’s been six years, people are bound to have changed.”

“Aye six years is a long time, so is three…”

“Are you saying that you’ve changed since the last time we were together?”

“I know I have, and I can see it that you have as well.” It’s true. The three years apart from Jamie and the six from Frank has changed me. Not only the circumstances from the war but also in the way I feel and think. I don’t know either of these men anymore. Frank I knew as my other half when I was 19 and the whirlwind of love that is the love I feel for Jamie hit faster and harder as though I were struck with lightning.

“Is it a bad thing, the change you see in me? Can you reconcile who I am for who I was three years ago?”

“Aye, only if you can reconcile the man I am now as well?” it seemed as though he wanted to continue but stopped himself.

“Jamie if you need to ask me something or want to say something just say it!”

Flushed in the face and neck Jamie mumbled,“Do ye still love him?”

“What?”

“Ye heard me. Do you still love him?” With a harsher tone he asked again, “Do you still love Frank?”

That was the question to answer all questions wasn’t it? Do I still love Frank? Yes, I do, a part of me always will. He was my first love. Being honest with myself I know that the kind of love I have for him is not the same kind of love I have for the man before me.

“Yes,” Not even trying to mask the pain from showing on his face, Jamie started to walk away until I continued even louder, “I can try reconcile the man you are now with who you were. We can learn the nuances of each other together, because I no longer love him the way I once did…” Desperately I wanted to add ‘Not even close to the way I love you.’

“So what do we do now?” he asked.

“We get through this bloody war and find happiness.” Smiling he took my hand and walked us back into the medical tent.

“Seeing you distracted me from the reason I’m here, Sassenach.”

“Do you need tending to? I don’t see any blood? Are you hurting?” Dropping his hand I started to poke and pat down his body trying to find the injury.

Laughing he said, “No it’s not me who’s injured. It’s Murtagh, my godfather, do ye remember me telling ye about him?” I nodded, “He saved me from being nothing but a smear on the grass and in the process got himself wounded. His tent is a few down from the one I found you at. That’s what I was doing when I saw you… I thought you were a dream or maybe a sign that Murtagh will be alright.” Smiling back at him I squeezed his hand in support, hoping whatever grieves Murtagh Fraser, the skilled surgeons here would help him survive. 

Later that evening while Jamie was off visiting with his wounded Godfather, I had the time to think about what I was going to do. Frank was still my husband no matter how much I wish it to be Jamie. My mind is racing! I haven’t been unfaithful to Frank, but I don’t feel as though I’ve been completely faithful either. How do I tell him how I feel? I’ve never mentioned Jamie before for obvious reasons and I believed him out of my reach, now with him here a future with him is more clear than ever before. I can see the way things could be, Jamie working the thriving farms on his generations old familial lands, small red headed children playing in the fields, and happiness nothing but everlasting happiness…

I shake my head in attempts to erase the beautiful image from my mind before tears appear. Right now what would I have? What future do I see with Frank? I don’t know if we’ll ever have a home. In the almost eight years of our marriage we’ve never settled down. I didn’t originally mind it felt easy and familiar after growing up with Uncle Lamb, but now my heart and mind are telling me to settle. With Frank all I can see for our future is a swirl of never-ending roads, cities, and unexplored territories. A family? After being raised that way I don’t know if I want to raise a family on the road. I can’t even picture the cild Frank and I would have… Now the only question remains is that what I still want? Do I want to go on ever changing always moving never settling down or do I want the stability of a permanent home? Do I want to raise a family or perhaps never have children of my own? Would I miss traveling and the adventures that always find Frank and I? More importantly would I miss the love I shared with Frank?

It’s still there, a faint coursing stream across my heart no more than a trickle of what once was there.

Heavy footsteps caused me to look up and break my train of thought. Jamie was there smiling at me as though I were the sunshine finally peaking out on a cloudy day. My heart swelled and I knew then that I wouldn’t miss what I had shared with Frank as much as I anticipated. I could see more of a future for myself now than I ever have before; I would still have adventures, they would be set in a different place with a surrounding of familiar ground, and a tight, always together and stable family life was the easiest of all to imagine. What I needed was strength, stability, unwavering love, and the man who fills my soul with ecstasy. Jamie was that man and is that stability with him I know I can handle the worst that has yet to come, Frank’s anger, his disbelief, and the divorce that will undoubtably follow. When the time comes and I get to see Frank again, I must tell him everything. For all three of our sakes, I can only hope Frank will understand and the least amount of heartbreak will occur.


	3. Please Come

_15 June 1945_

 

_My Darling Jamie,_

_We fought again tonight._

_I don’t know how much longer I can take this constant drivel and head-pounding screams! Frank is trying to have me “see reason” and get away from “this silly notion of a divorce.” He doesn’t see that I’m no longer the starry-eyed nineteen year old girl he married. I’m no longer infatuated with the man fifteen years older than I who would rather spend all his days hunting down history from an archeological site to the dustiest corners of the library. That man who was happy to just travel and have fun is no longer the man I am married to; with Frank I feel as though I’m a child caught up in a fantasy house instead of seeing the brilliant hues of candy I can see the dark, unkempt corners and perpetual lies strewn about._ __

_Six years has taken their toll, I’m not the girl I once was. You were right, war changes people._ __

_I need someone just as passionate, lively, loving, and stubborn as I am to put me in my place when I get out of hand. I need not just someone… you. Oh! What I wouldn’t do to be beside you now in your comforting presence listening to your soothing words. I long to be with you. When will our torture end?_ __

_After looking in your eyes and seeing the love that I know to be true I can no longer look at Frank the same, I cannot look upon him with devotion, admiration and love any longer. Have I told you he admitted to cheating on me? No less than seven women, from what he’s admitted. His eyes reflect his misdeeds when he looks at me; eyes that are like looking through a door pieced together with broken glass, hard to distinguish and—for the most part, empty._

_The sad part is I have already forgiven him. I do not look at these affairs for what they are, I do not feel wronged in any way for my heart is not his. I have been becoming so frustrated by his antics that I very well could scream, but not for whores he took to bed. No, not the whores but his constant pleading of “We can work this out” and “Divorce is something that is simply not done!”_

_A broken record over and over._

_I wish to release him from this inane obligation we both have to each other so that we may be free to go about our lives with people we can truly love, or if he chooses, to flout about with as many loose girls as he wishes; but no. No. He won’t let it be that simple. He won’t let me be free of him._

_He has resorted to name calling and temper tantrums. He refuses to accept that I do not, and cannot love him as I once did. You’ve become the “Homewrecker,” and in some of his more colorful rants the “Fucking Scottish Pig” who stole his wife._

_What he doesn’t realize is that he did not only lose me to you three years ago, he lost me the moment the war began. We changed in ways that, I believe, is only natural for people in times of war. He became distant and reclusive, only speaking to be once every half a year or less, only seeing me once every few years! I was lost to him the moment he started ignoring me. It’s not only his fault, I have changed, I have different values now than I did going into the war. I know now what I want, and that is something only you can give me._

_God, Jamie, I wish you were here. If not only to bring me back to sanity, but to make me whole once again. I need you so bad I ache. I have a plan and I hope you will be willing to help me. On June 22, one week from now, I’ll be in Inverness, Scotland (Frank’s idea of a rekindling honeymoon.) For the duration of our time there we will be staying at Mrs. Baird’s B &B. Please, please meet me there with the best lawyer you know or can find. I need to be rid of the poison that is causing my life to be in shambles.If you could reply to that address or meet me there that morning._

 

_I love you with all my heart,_

_Yours,_

_Always,_

 

_Claire_

 

 

 

Walking to the post office I kissed the first, and only letter I will mail to the man I love. I hope with all that it is within me that in one week he will be waiting outside Mrs. Baird’s Bed and Breakfast with the best lawyer he knows in tow.


	4. Save Me

A figure sat elbows on knees, on the from steps of Mrs. Baird’s Bed and Breakfast. My heart leapt. Jamie. The sound of the car and the slamming of doors caused his ruddy, gloriously red head to look up from his fidgeting hands. Lines creased across his forehead in deep contemplative thought, his eyes were squinted in determination and his mouth set in a hard line—preparing for conflict.

Composing myself, I willed my legs to walk slowly and not run at full speed into his arms as they ached to do. My true test of self control was now, in front of Frank I did not want to show weakness. My face was the only part I decidedly could not compose, a smile lit up my being, my eyes bright with unshed tears for seeing the one person I desperately craved, and my mouth curved into a full beaming smile that could not be taken away. My calm center and personal ray of sunshine was here.

Jamie’s tall form unfolded from the stairs, towering over myself and Frank; a well worn piece of paper peaked out of the his front right pocket, his hand twitched every so often tapping the rumpled corner as if to assure himself it was still there. His brooding gaze fell on Frank, his frown etched even deeper with an emotion and thought I could not distinguish; when his gave rested on me, I saw the tension ease from his body and a faint smile curve in his eyes and on his lips.

“Who the bloody hell are you?” Frank bellowed at Jamie, catching the soft exchange between us.

“That, sir, is really none of your concern.” Jamie’s bold statement rumbled out, full of the thick Scottish burr I dreamed of night and day.

“From the way you are looking at my wife, I’d say it is my concern. Now, tell me who the bloody hell you are or am I going to have to resort to more…drastic measures?” The glare on Frank’s face told me he knew exactly who Jamie was, name or not, he knew this was the man who held my heart.

“Frank, is this reaction to a man sitting outside Mrs. Baird’s really all that necessary?” I tried to make peace. Fire, storms, and rage will be present soon; right now was not the time or place.

 Frank’s face stayed in a contortion of rage and challenge towards Jamie. I begged Jamie to look at me, to see the reasons in my eyes why I did not want the fight to be here and now. Two men, two hearts I have held, and one I long to hold on forever, stood toe to toe, glowering in a testosterone fueled silent duel. More than once I noticed both Jamie and Frank’s hands twitch towards me, as if to say ‘she’s mine.

“Claire, why don’t you go inside while I deal with this,” he waved his hand over Jamie, “this Scottish scum.”

I bristled at that comment. “Scottish scum? Why the devil would you call him that? You don’t even know him!”

“Oh, but you do, do you?” The ire and glare turned to me, “I’m sure you know all about this Scottish scum; his name, his age, his cock size! Is he better than me, Claire? Is that why you can’t take lust-filled eyes off of him, his cock is larger and better than mine?” Frank dropped the luggage he was carrying and swiped a hand over his head, causing his hat to fall mercilessly to the ground; emitting a laugh that sounded more like a war cry he turned away.

“Here I thought I was the one who had to atone for sins outside the marital bed, and here you are eye-fucking this man before my very eyes! Is this the home wrecker who has caused the strife between us?”

His words hit me like a slap to the face. The sins he had to atone for, he was the one who was unfaithful, not I. I kept a distance between Jamie and myself to not break the sanctity of marriage; the looks I may be giving Jamie were ones of love, but not one of an adulteress.

“Ah, young Mr. Fraser! So nice to see ye again.” A short, grey man with rounded glasses came up from the high street to us. Looking at the still boiling testosterone fight the man looked at Jamie, to me, to Frank, and back at Jamie quizzically. “Did I come at a wrong time?”

“No, Mr. Gowan, ye dinna come at the wrong time. Did ye, by chance, bring the papers I spoke of?”

“Papers? Oh, aye,” clearing his throat and pulling out a manilla envelope from his bag, “Yes I did. Here ye are. I still need a few signatures, perhaps we could go inside this fine establishment and see if we may get some tea to discuss things over?”

Smiling, Jamie clapped his free hand on Mr. Gowan’s shoulder and looked to me, the anger and unease never leaving his eyes; a slight nod told me all I needed to know. Mr. Gowan was the solicitor Jamie procured and I needed to follow his lead.

“Mistress,” Jamie made a formal nod and a less impressive jerk towards Frank, “sir, if ye two dinna mind, I have business to attend to.”

Frank let out a snort fitting of an angry horse, “As if you would care if I minded at all you Scottish whore’s son!”

“Frank!” I admonished, “Leave Mr. Fraser be. He has—”

“I will not be reprimanded by the likes of you. Go inside and find our room.” Shaking his head he looked at Jamie then me one last time, “Better yet, get out of my sight, both of you.”

The shock on Mr. Gowan’s face was comical to say the least; I had to stifle a laugh, even being treated like the bottom of Frank’s shoe, I could not help the sparks of joy bubbling inside.

“Gentlemen, I hope you don’t mind and don’t take this as impertinent, but tea sounds wonderful right now, might I accompany you?”

The little solicitor looked to Jamie in question, seeing the smile forming on the young man’s face the older man nodded. “Such beauty will be welcomed with honor, Mistress. It is I that hopes, we are no too crude and unworthy of your presence.” The little old man smiled and did a flourishing courtly bow, that looked like it belonged in the halls of court from the days of old instead of on the cobbled streets of Inverness.

Mr. Gowan’s elbow was extended out and I took it, laughing at his uncommon flourishes.

“Perhaps, we shall find better tea and biscuits suitable for a lady such as yourself farther down the road?”

Nodding I said, “Lead the way, Mr. Gowan.”

Walking only a few paces from the steps of Mrs. Baird’s Bed and Breakfast, Mr. Gowan on my left, and Jamie following behind, I was ready to leave and never return to Frank’s side.

“Claire, you can’t actually be serious leaving with these men?”

Jamie spun around, smirking all the while putting Frank in his place.“Was it no you, just a second ago demanding her to get out of yer sight? Here she is doin’ as ye said and ye object? I dinna think it works that way when the lady chooses to leave, she may go wherever she pleases.”

“Mr. Fraser, do not worry yourself over him, he is not worth it. Please, come.” Setting my luggage down, I extended my hand towards Jamie, hoping he’d take the bait.

Looking down and smiling, Jamie walked over to me and clasped my hand firmly in his, picking up my luggage in the other, “Aye, ye will be much better company.”

My soul and heart felt complete with Jamie’s hand in mine walking down the street where we will be signing the papers for the divorce as divorcee and witness. Soon we will be together fully, legally, forever.

 

At the corner bakery the solicitor who’s name I had come to find as Ned, went to order the tea and biscuits while Jamie and I found a table to discreetly discuss the legal actions that were to be taken.

“God, mo nighean donn, it’s so good to finally see and touch ye. Receiving your letter—” Bending his head to touch my hand, his voice filled with emotion and broke. “Shhh, Jamie, I’m here.”

“Aye, but ye must know, receiving that letter filled my soul with fire and life all the while breaking my heart. I called upon Ned as soon as I had put the letter down. To know and now see how poorly he was treating you… I canna fathom how hard it has been on ye. Please, after today, dinna go back to him. Come back with me.”

“Jamie, I—”

“Here we are, one steaming pot of oolong and a plate of toffy almond sandies. Now, let’s get down to business shall we? Mrs. Randall, I ken ye want to divorce and now it is easier to make happen but not as easy as a flick of the wrist.”

“Please call me Claire, Mr. Gowan.”

“Aye, Claire, here is the petition for divorce. I’ll need ye to look it over and sign and initial where applicable, Jamie here will need to do the same as witness. I saw the way your husband was treating ye, has ever gotten violent?”

“Frank is a cheat and a hot head, but he has never risen a hand to me.”

 Jamie’s shoulders seemed to deflate in relief when he heard my response.

“You said he is a cheat? Is this something we can prove?”

Nodding and setting my tea cup down I told Ned all that I knew. The names of the seven women Frank had cheated on me with during the war, and the handful I knew of from the past few months. Ned’s gray head bobbed with each name and explanation of wrongdoing, scribbling on a pad in front of him; building my case against Frank and hopefully, what will win my independence.

At the end of my grueling retelling of the last years of my marriage Ned gathered up papers smiling from ear to ear. “Well Mistress, I believe with this information and petition I will be submitting to the courts tomorrow—I can submit these here as long as you were married in the United Kingdom, where were you married Claire?”

“A small town not too far from here actually.”

“Scotland! Ye married in Scotland?” Jamie gaped like a fish.

Nodding I turned back to my tea waiting to hear what step I needed to take next.

“Perfect! Simply, marvelous! I will be able to have more sway since ye married here, now I need you to go back to your husband.” Jamie stood up with a clatter of his chair and mouth open as if he were to say something, but Ned simply held up a hand to him and waved for him to sit back down. “If he does anything to hurt you, you call me at once and then the police if he is violent. I’ll set up a safe haven for ye here in Inverness, I have a few friends scattered about that would take ye in without it looking suspicious. As much as the lad here would like to harbor your safety it wouldna be wise, since he is the witness, and from what I can tell of the two of ye, who ye mean to leave your husband for.”

Jamie’s face went red in embarrassment; I knew he wanted me to stay with him, but I had to agree with Ned on this, it would not look right to go straight to him before the divorce was even enacted. Grabbing his hand I told Ned I would, and asked if he would escort me back to Mrs. Barid’s. As much as I longed for Jamie to be the one to escort me, the last thing I needed was him to get into a fight with Frank.

“Jamie, please look at me.” Reluctantly the blue eyes I loved met mine. “You do know that I love you and I do not want you harmed. If staying away while near Frank or where we could be seen without another or in a group, that could potentially harm our chances, I will do it. I want to be with you, but we have to be patient and wait for this to go through. I don’t want to give Frank any kind of leg up.”

“Aye, aye you are right, mo nighean donn, of course. It doesna mean I like it, but I’ll do as ye ask. Can we at least meet with Ned, or someone? I believe I’ll go crazy if I canna see ye with ye this close.”

Tears were pricking at my eyes, “Yes, I believe I’ll be going crazy as well with this closeness and not being able to see you.”

Holding on to Jamie’s hand for dear life I dreaded the moment Ned was to break us up.

“Come along, Claire. Let’s get ye back and soon ye will be reunited with young Jamie here.”

 

Mrs. Baird’s looked more like an executioners block instead of the quaint bed and breakfast I’m sure it is. My stomach lurched with everything inside of me revolting and urging me to turn around and run full tilt back to Jamie. Taking a cleansing breath I focused on the positive, soon I will no longer have to trudge back to Frank’s side; soon I will no longer have to call myself Claire Randall; my life will change for the better, soon.

“There you are, you adulteress whore!” Staggering from side to side, Frank held a bottle of an unknown alcohol taking a swig intermittently. “Have you been out with your Scottish pig? I’m sure you’re nice a loose, ready for another beating.”

“Frank, how much have you been drinking? And to answer your question, no, I haven’t been whoring myself out to Mr. Fraser.”

“Pft, as if you care about how much I’ve dra-a-ank. Tea does not take as long as you were gone.” He pointed an accusatory finger at me from the bottle. “Since you won’t own up to your whoring ways, I will. Gina! Won’t you join us?” Frank shouted towards the bathroom. A woman in nothing but a silk nightgown emerged from the bathroom, short black hair shiny and straight just kissing her shoulders, a cigarette perched between her fingers, and a lazy smile across her blood red lips.

“Ah, Claire, meet Gina, she’s quite a good lay, better than you could ever hope to be.” Frank slung his arm around the girl and sloppily kissed her. Turning to me, he saw the look of shock etched across my face. Smirking at me he opened Gina’s robe and began to fondle her in front of me, “See how she reacts? How she’s responsive to my touch?” He slapped her breast then soothed it as the whore moaned. “Is your Scottish bastard as responsive, Claire? Is he?” Frank’s anger boiled, abandoning the girl he staggered over to me reeking of gin. “Is he better than I am?”

“I wouldn’t know. I’ve never slept with him, I’ve never even kissed him. I was not the unfaithful one Frank, you are.” The rage in Frank’s eyes gave me pause for concern and made me rethink my statement, but I stand by it. The hand holding the bottle of gin raised and then struck me across the face, hard enough that my head whipped to the side and caused my eyes to water. Frank’s body swelled even more with rage, raising his hand to strike me again—I ducked. Not daring to look back, I fled from the room clutching my face making a beeline for the telephone in the lobby.

The phone line rang and rang, dread filled my stomach like a lead ball, I did not know if he would answer.

“Hello?”

“Ned, he struck me. I need out of here. Please! Where is the safest place I can escape to?”

“He struck you?” He sounded outraged and a voice in the background yelled and the sounds of items being thrown filled my ears. “Jamie. Lad! Stop! Claire, go back to the bakery and wait, Jamie the headstrong fool is on his way. He’ll bring ye back to my place, we’ll add more to the divorce and get a protection order for you.”

Hanging up, I ran down the street to the bakery. When I arrived there, Jamie’s form was pacing outside the establishment, hands fervently running through his hair. I picked up speed and ran right into his chest. He let out an ‘oof’ but embraced me, running his hands over my sides then gently cupping my cheek, speaking in a language I could not understand.

“Please, take me away.” Looking into his eyes that were slowly filling with unshed tears, tears streaming down my own face I begged, “Jamie, please…”

Kissing my forehead, then wiping the tears from my face he nodded and guided me to the car.


	5. Sanctuary

I moved slowly as Jamie guided me out of the car and into the manor. The entire time he spoke in Gaelic, his voice rough and full of emotion. His hands made a constant circuit over my back and shoulders. I realized my tears had stopped. All that remained was the wet tracks left behind. Jamie’s influence was calming, comforting, and exactly what I needed. My face still throbbed from Frank’s brutal attack. My heart… my heart did not ache, though it had been battered and bruised from Frank’s infidelity. Nothing could hurt or harm it with Jamie at my side.

Jamie led me down the immaculate hall to a study filled with books, a warm fire, and cozy looking chairs. I could feel myself grow tired just looking at the room.

Safety.

That’s what was seeping from this room, the overwhelming feeling of safety and protection. I made my way to the love seat by the fire to sit and soak in the much needed warmth. Ned sat across in a high wing-backed chair, documents strewn across his lap, and the pen in his hand fervently scratching and making notes across the pages. I sighed, and relaxed into the chair, my body going limp as Jamie seated himself beside me, pulling me tight to his side.

I heard the rumble of his voice but couldn’t make out the words. He could have been speaking in English or Gaelic, but I wouldn’t have known, the world was going fuzzy and dim. Sleep was beckoning.

“Claire!” I heard my name faintly in the back of my mind, and my shoulders shook. I furrowed my brow and burrowed deeper into the warmth beside me. “Claire! Ye must stay awake, mo nighean donn.”

Jamie’s voice came in loud and clear, full of worry and desperation. I cracked an eyelid open and blearily stared at the man who holds my heart.

“Hi.” I smiled, leaning further into his embrace, shutting my eye once again to sleep to the sound of his thudding heart.

“No, mo nighean donn, dinna sleep! Please. Christ, Claire, ye canna sleep. Ye may no wake again.” He sounded near tears.

I pulled my head—which felt as though it were made of a concrete block—up from his chest and opened my eyes only a crack.

“Why do you think I wouldn’t wake again? I’m just so very tired, Jamie.”

“Aye,” He nodded, rubbing my arm. “That’s what I’m afraid of. I’ve seen men lay down when this kind of exhaustion hits and never wake again. I dinna want to lose ye, Claire. I canna bear to lose ye.”

I moved my hand up to his face, and his hand covered it, holding it close to him. “You won’t lose me. Never again will I leave you willingly. Not now. Not ever. Alright?”

He pulled my wrist to his mouth and gave it a slow kiss. “Aye, Sassenach. I believe ye. I dinna want—”

“I know, you don’t want anything to happen to me. With you here,” I stole a glance at Ned who was looking up over his glasses, still bent over papers pretending not to pay attention. I smirked. “And with Ned capable of fighting for me, for us, legally; nothing should happen to me ever again.”

Jamie smiled, a watery smile. His left hand shook as he brought it towards the right side of my face. He gingerly caressed my face and I winced. I couldn’t stop the hiss that escaped when he touched beside my eye. Deep under the worry lines and frown, I could see the flash of anger in his eyes. He uttered a string of Gaelic in a tone that held menace and revenge.

“Whew laddie, that’s not a phrase you should be uttering in front of your lass.” Ned chucked from his side of the room. Jamie threw him a glare.

“Now, now lad, dinna take your ire out on me. I have the amended divorce document and the petition for protection here. I just need the two of you to look them over before I type them up for you.”

Ned stood up—still hunched over—a hand on his lower back the other outstretched with the documents. Taking them from him, Jamie put both on his lap and grabbed my hands.

“No matter what happens, if these documents dinna work…” He trailed off, I squeezed his hands in reassurance.

“We’ll be together no matter what.”

I grabbed the document on top and began to read it over. While I was skimming the document, I heard Jamie grunt in Gaelic and Ned, graciously, answering him in English.

“I know lad, I know. It’s a vile man that leaves a mark on a woman…No, I don’t believe a court will do anything about him beating her, though they should…We need to be able to prove he was unfaithful.”

I shifted uneasily, Jamie noticed—he always notices—and wrapped an arm around me.

“What is it, mo nighean donn?”

“Frank, he had a woman in our room with him…they were…they were intimate.” I whispered, looking at my lap.

Jamie’s hands clenched against my arm. I could feel him quivering with rage.

“Claire, lass, did you by chance catch a name of the woman, or what she looked like?” Ned questioned cutting Jamie off, while trying to be a voice of reason.

I nodded. “Her name was Gina, she was dark haired, fair skin, she wore a black negligee. I’m not sure of her last name or facial features. I only caught a glimpse of her before,” I looked to Jamie then to Ned, and finally back down at my hands. “Before Frank hit me with the liquor bottle.”

Suddenly, Jamie’s arm was gone from me and he was across the room pacing. His hands clenching and unclenching as he walked. He looked like a man possessed.

“Jamie—” I started just as Ned said.

“Good! This is good news, not you being hit by the bottle of course, but the woman!” A gnarled hand patted my knee while he smiled. His light brown eyes twinkling in delight. “Gina, you say? I’m sure we’ll be able to find such a woman and if my gut is correct, she may be a whore. Prostitution is illegal in Inverness. This could be what we need to ensure your divorce!”

The little man was up with a swiftness I had not expected, and he did a little jig as he bounded from the room, leaving Jamie and I alone.

“Jamie, please…” I said, patting the seat beside me.

I wasn’t sure what I was asking other than him to come to me, but he seemed to understand and gave a curt nod.

Instead of sitting beside me, he chose to kneel in front of me. He grabbed both of my hands and brought them to his lips, kissing them then pressing them to his forehead.

“I swear to ye, Sorcha, that by the blood that runs through my veins, the air that I breathe, the love that I have for ye, and by God Almighty Himself, I will find justice for ye. I will protect ye with all that I am, and I swear to ye that I’ll ne’er lay a hand on ye in anger.” He bent and kissed my hands once again before leaning his forehead to my knees.

I sat, stunned at his declaration.

He stood, offering out a hand. “Come, Sassenach. We best get some rest, and I’d like to clean up your face some before that happens.”

I shuffled the papers to the side, grabbed his hand and nodded. “Is it really that bad?”

His eyes went soft as he nodded, and gingerly touched the wounded side again.

“Aye, ’tis. It’s a nasty black and purple color, with some dried blood mixed in. Seems the cut has stopped it’s bleeding, but I’ll take no chances with ye, Sassenach. Ye are too precious to me not to be cautious. I’ll be sleeping in the chair in yer room, to wake ye every so often. I dinna want ye to—”

“—to never wake up again. Yes, you said that before.” I finished for him.

Nodding with a sad smile, Jamie led me to the guest bedroom where there was already a pan of water, cloths, and a first aid kit set on the bedside table.

“Have a seat, Sassenach,” he gestured to the bed. The lamplight was decent, not nearly as perfect as a medical treatment area should be, but decidedly better than the lighting in the army tents.

I sat without argument close to the lamp at the edge of the bed. The better he could see, the easier it would be.

He acted as though he were going to say something, his mouth opened and closed without sound before he shook his head and grabbed a rag.

“You’ll want to dip that in the water. If it’s not warm, I’m sure we could find a tap with hot water to warm it.” I rambled.

Nodding, Jamie smiled as he dipped the rag and rung it out. “The water is just fine. Come here.”

He beckoned me forward, I easily leaned into his palm as the other hand gently stroked against my cheek. His right thumb made soothing circles by my ear causing me to lean even further into his palm—desperate for more of his gentle touch.

“I’m sorry,” He’d wince as he grew closer to my eye. That’s where the cut must be.

I tried to hold still, keeping my gasps and wincing to a minimum. Only once did I jerk from his touch, and I knew from the moment the cloth brushed the tender spot from eyebrow to ear that this was where the bottle had cut me. I tensed my muscles and gripped the bedclothes as tight as I could so that he could concentrate and not worry about hurting me.

“A ghraidh, I’m so verra sorry. I’m almost finished.” His left hand—even more gentle than before—cleaned the last bit of my wound as the tension in his face ebbed away.

He turned his back to me, sifted through the medical supplies and pulled out what he thought he might need. I laid a hand on his shoulder and shook my head.

“I need to see.”

“No, Claire! I canna let ye see just yet. Allow me to bandage and dress the wound before ye look.”

I shook my head again. He stood with a huff to turn the vanity mirror my way.

“Jamie, it’s not that I don’t believe you, and I know you are just trying to protect me, but if this cut is worse than it seems, I’ll need you suture it instead of just applying a dressing. Just let me see the damage so I can help you help me.”

He closed his eyes and nodded, backing away from the vanity. I saw what he did not want me to see…Black and purple he had said. What he failed to mention was how it was black and purple from hairline to jawline, a mass of white and red cutting diagonally from ear to eyebrow. Already the side of my face was swollen and tender. I hadn’t noticed before just how swollen my eye had become, seeing it in the mirror I now noticed the impediment of my vision from the red puffy top and bottom eyelids that opened no more than a slit.

I gasped in horror. How could he stand to see me like this?

“Oh, oh God, Jamie!” I cried out, my hand rising to my mouth.

He was behind me in an instant, his strong, warm hands resting on my shoulders as they began to shake as the tears rolled down my face. He squeezed gently as my hand came up to rest on one hand.

“I know, mo Sorcha, I know. I wilna let Frank get away with what he has done to ye.” He kissed my head softly. “Now that ye’ve seen what is wrong, can ye instruct me properly on how to help ye heal? I may no be a healer like yourself, but with your guidance I can help ye fine.”

I nodded and told him what to look for. The butterfly bandages should hold the cut together well enough for him to apply the gauze, ointment and tape for the night.

“…tomorrow I’ll need to take the dressing off to let the wound breathe, but tomorrow evening I’ll have you redress it…if you want to.” I hastily added, feeling my cheeks flush. “I could do this myself if you don’t want to bother yourself.”

“Claire,” he stopped me, raising my face to meet his eyes. “I told ye I would help ye and protect ye, and I mean it.”

I smiled at him, and he returned the gesture.

“Now that ye’ve been seen to medically, I want ye to try to sleep. I’ll take the kit downstairs while ye get comfortable. It may no be much, but there’s an extra shirt in the top drawer for ye to sleep in.” Jamie stood, gathered the medical kit and made his way to the door. “As I said before I’ll be sleeping just in that chair there, I’ll wake ye erra so often, so dinna fash, mo ghraidh.”

“You don’t—”

“Aye, I do. For if I sleep in that bed with ye, Sorcha, I’ll ne’er want to stop.”


	6. Order of Protection

I sat in the hard wooden chairs of the police station, my leg nervously bouncing as I waited for my name to be called. We were filing the Order of Protection and the case of severe spousal abuse. Jamie paced in front of me, his right hand anxiously tapping his thigh with each stride. Ned sat beside me, thumbing through the paperwork, checking, double-checking, and checking again that all of our i’s had been dotted and t’s crossed.

“It’ll be fine, my dear.” Ned said reassuringly. He laid a hand on my knee.

I looked to him, eyes filled with fear. “They’ll want pictures and proof. How can I do this… I don’t know if I should do this...I--”

“Calm down, dear. All will be over with soon. Once we file this complaint we can make our way across town to file the divorce order.” He paused and looked at Jamie. “Now there we may have reason to worry. They may insist on calling your husband in for verification that this will happen, or worse yet, call the church and have you excommunicated.”

My heart dropped. I knew that religion was a core part of Jamie’s life. While I may not be the most devout Catholic, the idea of being excommunicated scared me into doubt. Would I be able to marry Jamie in a Catholic church after this? Would he ever forgive me, if he too, were shunned for choosing to be with a woman who broke her vows?

My leg began to bounce in double time, my heart beat as though it were about to explode. Sweat began to bead on my upper lip and palms.

“Oh, God! I’m going to be sick!” I exclaimed.

Jamie rushed to my side and began rubbing my back and spoke soothing words in Gaelic.

“Just take deep breaths, Claire.” Ned began. “All will work itself out. God wills it, and He will know and understand the reasons why you are doing what you are doing. You were faithful to your vows, your husband broke them. It is Frank that should fear for his immortal soul and the consequences of breaking such sacred obligations.” Ned said with an edge to his voice.

I felt tears prick at my eyes as I gasped for breath and held my hands in my hands.

“Claire Randall?” An officer--or clerk-- called from behind me.

I felt Jamie grab my arm. He helped me to my feet and walked me to the Chief’s office. His steady hand a fixture on my lower back, providing support and protection.

“So, Mrs. Randall, why have ye come to see the police force today?” The portly man said, clasping his hands over the paperwork on the desk.

I took a deep, shaky breath and looked him in the eye. “Well, sir, today I’ve come to file an Order of Protection for myself against...against my husband.”

The police chief raised an eyebrow and looked to either side of me where Ned and Jamie sat.

“I take it, neither of the men seated beside ye are your husband?”

“No, sir.” I shook my head. “Mr. Gowan is my solicitor and Mr. Fraser is a friend from the war who has graciously agreed to be a witness to the proceedings.”

The chief did not look convinced of Jamie’s ‘friendship’ state. My pulse began to quicken even further and I could feel my hands start to shake.

“I see. Mr. Fraser, was it?” Jamie nodded. “Can ye provide proof that ye are not a lover or partner to this woman?”

Jamie’s brows furrowed. “Sir, I’ve only recently been dismissed from His Majesty’s Armed Service. Claire--Mrs. Randall and I met during the war. She was the nurse who brought me back from the brink of death. I owe her my life. She wrote to me requesting that I might witness the proceedings for this Order of Protection and the Divorce filings she wishes to claim.” Jamie rummaged into his pocket and procured a rumpled, dirty, well read letter.

“Here, Sir. This is the very letter she sent not but a month ago requesting my service and that of a trusted advisor. I sent her further correspondence for Mr. Gowan and they have drawn the papers up for this day.”

Jamie handed over the letter I penned late last night as an afterthought. How he managed to make the letter appear so well worn, in so little time astounded me. 

The chief read the letter and placed it gingerly down on the desk.

“Mrs. Randall, in the letter ye only mention the divorce and that of unfaithfulness to your husband. Do ye have reason to file this complaint?” The man said, pinching the bridge of his nose as though he’d rather be doing any assignment other than speaking with me.

“Yes, sir, I do.” I turned to Jamie. “Jamie, please help me remove the bandages.”

He nodded and gently peeled back the medical tape to allow the gauze to fall into his hand.

“Sir, if you would look at the right side of my face you will see one of the reasons why I wish to file this complaint.”

I turned my head slowly to the side, allowing the full effect of the purple, blue, and red mass of injury to be visible. I must have cracked the scab because the cut by my eye began to ooze slightly as I turned. I could feel the blood trickle down my face.

The gasp from the chief was unexpected, but relieving nevertheless.

“Madam, when did this happen to ye?”

“Last night. I arrived at the bed and breakfast after taking tea and discussing my legal options with my solicitor, and my husband struck me with a liquor bottle.”

“Was he drunk?”

“Well on his way to being beyond drunk, sir. He also had a blonde haired woman by the name of Gina with him whom he was having sexual relations with. He went to strike me again and that, sir, is when I fled to the streets and called my solicitor. He offered me sanctuary last night after my ordeal. Mr. Gowan then called Mr. Fraser as witness to these documents being created.”

The police chief nodded.

“If it’s spousal abuse ye are trying to file a claim against, I can take photos and write a report, but it’s no going to do much for ye. A man can, and has the right, to do with his wife what he deems appropriate. Now the woman, Gina, and his relations ye can file for prostitution if ye can prove she was a prostitute.” He stood and walked around his desk, arms outstretched to guide me from the room. “Other than that there is noth—”

“You mean to tell me that you cannot help the woman who has been beaten against her will, witnessed her husband’s adultery, and feared for her life enough to seek sanctuary with a solicitor?” Ned said in a voice meant for a courtroom. He was in command now.

The police officer stopped mid-gesture and looked slack jawed at Ned.

“I say—I mean—” He said flustered.

“You mean to say that because she is a woman, you do not wish to grant her these rights. Sir, I have the legal power to tell you that you do have the right, and the obligation to do so. As such, Mrs. Randall will need the Order of Protection to help keep her safe in light of the divorce papers going into effect. Mr. Randall is not a stable man, nor the most faithful. If you do look to her face and see what he can do with one blow, imagine what he can do with multiple? Or with an object larger than your standard whiskey bottle?”

Ned never raised his voice. He spoke evenly and calmly the entire time. I watched as sweat beaded on the officer’s head. Hunching over, Ned slid the Order of Protection onto the officer’s desk and sat back, hands knotted together serenely.

“Now, sir,” he jeered. “Please look over the documents I have provided and see that the proper steps of filing take place.”

The chief dumbly nodded his head and went back to his desk. Quickly, he read over the document then picked up the phone.

“Lewis, I need you to come get Mrs. Randall and take her into the conference room. There you will take detailed notes and photos of her injuries to file with me at once.”

The chief sighed and, never looking up from his desk, waved us out of the office.

Officer Lewis was quick and thorough asking questions, taking photos, and detailing as much as he could to help me. As he was escorting us out of the building, he revealed that his mother and sister were in abusive relationships; he wished he could have done more for them. Lewis promised he would see to the files and make sure the Order of Protection took effect as soon as tomorrow morning.

I felt all the breath leave my body. I was weightless and more relieved than I knew I could be from filing the first legal document. The next would be that much harder, but hopefully just as rewarding.

“Ye dinna have to do this today, Claire.” Jamie said as we ate our lunches. “Ye could wait until tomorrow, when the Order of Protection goes through.”

“I could,” I said with a cough. “Or I could face my fears and get it over with today. I would rather not prolong the inevitable.”

“Young Jamie has a point, lass. If we wait to file the divorce papers tomorrow, and young Officer Lewis proves true, then if Mr. Randall comes near you, you have the legal rights to have him arrested.”

Jamie nodded in agreement with Ned. He reached a hand under the table and grabbed my own. “Please, Claire.”

I saw the worry cloud his eyes and knew I couldn’t worry him further. I nodded and squeezed his hand back.

“We go first thing in the morning.”


	7. A Holy Union Unfurled

I stood hand-in-hand with Jamie in Ned’s kitchen. I wasn’t ready to leave this peaceful actuary. There was still so much I feared and doubted. Would this be my last day holding hands with the man I love? Would I ever feel safe at home again?

Frank had destroyed my sense of safety with a single blow to the head. Could I ever trust him again if this divorce was denied? The answer I already knew. No, I wouldn’t feel safe or trust him if the day comes that I’m forced to return home with him.

“Dinna fash, Sassenach.” Jamie murmured.

“I’m not.” I lied.

He smirked at me and leaned in close. “Aye, ye are. Ye are working yourself into a state of unease. Ye’ll be fine, mo nighean donn. Ye will no have to go live wi’ Frank again, I promise you that.”

“How did you know?” I asked, searching his eyes for answers.

He smiled in return. His blue eyes twinkled with mischief. “I ken how ye are, Claire. Ye’re my heart and soul. Do ye really believe that I wouldna ken how you think and feel from the expression on your face? Or the unusual quiet of your demeanor?”

I was shocked. Not because what he said was true, but because I never allowed myself to believe he cared as deeply as he did. Deep down I knew he cared, I could feel it without even looking at him, and I could see it in everything he did for me. He never once has had to ask me for what I needed or what I thought, he already knew...because he loves me enough to notice.

Tears began to stream down my face at my earth-shaking realization. Jamie’s eyes went wide and he pulled me to his chest. He stroked my back in soothing circles the entire time whispering comforting words in Gaelic.

“I should be the one comforting you!” I exclaimed into his chest.

“Shh, mo nighean donn. Ye comfort me by just being with me. Dinna fash on things ye canna change.” He whispered, placing a kiss to the top of my head

“But I should be apologizing to you!” I said through a sob, continuing before he had a chance to retort. “For how selfish I have been! You have done nothing but care and be there for me. You’ve known exactly what I needed before I even knew I needed it. I-I-”

“Ye have no reason to apologize. What yer going through is more than ye should be. Ye should no be going through this. If ye were mine and mine alone, I’d have ye smiling always.” Jamie said, brushing a stray curl behind my ear. “There’s no a reason in the world as to why ye should ever be this scared. I promise ye, mo nighean donn, after all of this is over ye will ne’er have reason to fear again.”

His touch was so gentle it sent shivers down my spine. I looked up at him, tears flowed even harder down my face from his gentleness.

“I don’t think I’ve ever said this out loud to you,” I mumbled, losing my confidence with each word. “But, I love you Jamie. I love you more than I can tell you and I hope-”

“I ken, Sassenach. I ken it well. Ye love me, and ye show it to me in the way ye move, the words ye say, and how ye simply are with me. I have ne’er doubted yer love for me, for it’s the same love that I have for ye.” He interrupted me.

I longed to kiss him, to show him physically the love for him that consumes me….but I was still married.

“I kent that as well, Sassenach. The moment ye can freely give yerself to me, I’ll be there and it will be as it should.”

Jamie was too good to be mine, yet he chose me all the same. I smiled and leaned my head back onto his chest, savoring this moment. He was my forever and the future I was striving for. The fear and doubts that come with this decision do not outweigh my reward. Jamie knew how to stop the fears from escalating, and he did so without preamble.

“Ach, good! You’re both awake!” Came Ned’s voice from behind Jamie. I jumped in his arms and Jamie let out a low chuckle that rumbled through his chest.

“Morning Ned.” Jamie said, not letting me move from my place against him. I also replied with a good morning, whether or not Ned could hear it I wasn’t sure.

“If the two of you don’t mind, I wish to get to the courthouse a wee bit early.” He said with a wink, grabbing his pipe from his pocket. “The earlier we arrive, the sooner this will all be over with for you, my dear.” Ned said, pointing the now stuffed pipe in my direction.

I cleared my throat and pushed away slightly from Jamie’s chest. “Yes, I agree and am ready to leave when you are.”

“Good! Good! Let’s head out now.”

The courthouse loomed over me. I should feel excitement or at the very least relief at what I’ve been planning and longing for is finally coming to pass; however, I wasn’t. I was still terrified. Here I couldn’t use Jamie for support. He had to keep his distance and be there only as my witness.

The hall echoed as I walked nervously behind Ned.

“Hello,” Ned smiled at the scowling secretary. “My name is Ned Gowan, I’m the solicitor for Mrs. Claire Randall.” He gestured behind him towards me. The secretary arched her eyebrow.

“And that means something to me because?” She drawled out, uninterested.

Ned smiled at her. “It means that we have an appointment with Judge Fairbairn and would like to be directed to his chambers or a place to meet him.”

My eyes went wide in shock at Ned’s false pleasantries towards this woman. The secretary though, didn’t seem to care. She lazily pulled out a records book and skimmed over the listings.

“Mmm. No. You seem to not be on Judge Fairbairn’s list of clients.”

“Well, madam, we wouldn’t be in the book for previous clients, since we are not. We are, however, current new clients of his. Check the day book if you please.”

My nerves were starting to get the better of me. Ned seemed to be fighting with a brick wall to find our appointment. I had no doubt that he had called ahead and planned. I started hopping from foot-to-foot. Jamie came up from behind me and laid a gentle hand on my arm.

“Calm down, Sassenach.” He whispered, hardly moving his lips. “This will happen, the lass is just a fool and doesna want to do her job. Ned will make sure it happens.”

I let out a snort. Jamie squeezed my arm slightly. “Relax.”

I took in a deep breath and let it out counting to ten while rolling my shoulders.

“I still dinna see you on the list.” I heard the secretary drawl out.

I could see Ned lean over the desk, and point at something.

“There we are, madam. Nine-thirty in the morning, C. Randall: Petition for Divorce. Solicitor, N. Gowan. Witness J. Fraser.” Ned read clearly. “And if you take a look under this column here,” he pointed again. “It reads Judge C.A. Fairbairn.”

Jamie and I exchanged looks before settling our gazes back on Ned; who had made the secretary turn bright red.

Her eyes narrowed and when she opened her mouth to speak a door slamming open cut her off.

“Ned!” A short, thin man with thick white hair greeted.

“Colin!” Ned greeted back shaking the man’s hand. “Mrs. Randall, this is Colin Fairbairn, he will be the judge in charge of the proceedings.”

I stepped forward to shake the man’s hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. Thank you for accepting our appointment.”

“Oh, the pleasure's all mine! Ned tells me that the situation has become violent and you are needing a quick turnaround on this proposition?” He said, guiding us into a chamber.

I nodded in agreement. “Yes, my husband has become quite violent and has started to flaunt affairs before me. I would like to get this taken care of at the earliest convenience.”

He nodded and sat back at an opulent desk. He turned to Ned.

“Do you have the appropriate paperwork? You do know given the circumstances that a marriage in England is quite different than a marriage in Scotland for legal rights? It’ll be easier to get a judge from the appropriate county to preside.”

“Oh, well there’s where you’re in luck Colin.” Ned said, grinning wolfishly. “They were married in Scotland.”

The judge’s eyes lit up. “Oh? Well how fortunate!” He looked down at the papers he was just handed. He read them quickly, humming to himself, and tagging sections with stray paper for emphasis.

“It says here that you are Catholic?”

I nodded.

“Do you mind if we call a bishop or priest here to also preside over this? They are rather particular when it comes to sacraments.” He said, his eyes soft.

“Yes. That’s--that’s fine.” I took a shaky breath and slumped back in my chair.

Within the hour, not only had a Bishop been called upon, so had Frank. I thought I was nervous arriving at the establishment and now, I feel as though I’m about to jump out of my skin. Frank would most likely charm them, convince them to not excommunicate him, but me and drag everything that I am through the mud.

The Bishop was a kind man by the name of Adam. Bishop Adam did request that I detail the reasons for wanting a divorce. The entire conversation, I held back tears. I described what had happened during the war. How all communication stopped for years on end. That when we finally reunited he wasn’t the same man-- he had become abusive, accusatory, and hostile. The mention of prostitutes and affairs piqued the bishop’s interest in particular. Abuse, both verbal and physical he could see around but not the affairs. Bishop Adam had just begun to ask how many when the chamber doors slammed open once again.

Frank staggered into the Judge’s Chambers, a bottle of whiskey in his hand and a new redheaded prostitute hanging off the same arm.

“Claire!” Frank roared. He pushed the prostitute to the side, reared his arm back and went to strike me. I saw his aim and quickly ducked out of the way. When I looked up, Jamie was behind Frank restraining his arms, pulling him away from me.

My breath came in short gasps. The bishop knelt down beside me and lay a comforting hand on my back.

“What is the meaning of your actions, sir?” Bishop Adam demanded, his voice full of authority.

Frank scoffed, “I don’t take orders from you.”

“Perhaps you’ll take orders from me.” Judge Fairbairn said, replacing the receiver on the phone and stood up. “You are in my quarters and you’ll do as I say while in here.”

Frank rolled his eyes, jerked his arms several times and Jamie released him.

“Sit down, Mr. Randall.” Judge Fairbairn said.

Frank sat and pulled the leggy redhead to his lap, giving her hip a slap.

“There, at least let me be comfortable, your honor.” He slurred.

The judge arched his eyebrow and mocked Frank. “Who have you brought with you? Is she your solicitor? If she is I’d be most interested to see her credentials.”

Frank’s head rolled back with laughter. “This dumb whore, a lawyer? No. She’s,” he turned to the woman on his lap. “What’s your name again darling?”

A faint whisper came from the girl. “Anna.”

“Right,” Frank said. “Her name is Anna, and she’s is my hired companion for the day. I’m sure my whore of a wife has told you all about her own whore. She’s even brought him here, so I feel no remorse bringing Anna along today.”

The Bishop and the Judge turned to me. I felt myself harden. 

“I have not brought a whore, lover, or anyone more than my solicitor and a friend to serve as witness to this exchange. The only person I’ve slept with is Frank Randall. I would like to go on record saying that I have been nothing but loyal to my husband. I have formed friendships with men, as one does when serving in the army. Mr. Fraser, whom Frank is calling a whore, was a patient of mine. He’s here as a character witness, your honor. He was under my care for a short time before going under a doctor’s care. He saw me in the wards, the mess tents, and around the medical encampment while in France. I have never been intimate with this man, or any man other than my husband.”

I turned to the bishop, “I take my vows quite seriously, and I would not break them lightly. It is not a matter of no longer wishing to be bound to Frank; it is a desperate need to rid myself of someone who does not value the vows taken. The marks on my face were made by him, when he was with another prostitute by the name of Gina. As he has already stated, he has no remorse bringing a lover into this chamber before the law and before a man of the Lord. I wish to separate this union, to free myself from the suffering, humiliation, and abuse caused by this man.”

The Bishop sat astonished, and Judge Fairbairn looked smug. “I see here you have a Restraining Order in effect against Mr. Randall, is that correct?”

I nodded.

“If we take your case into consideration, that will mean going back to the way life was before. In doing so that would go against this Order and you would not be subject to it’s clauses... That is, unless you can find a home of Sanctuary. A home where none of the occupants may pose a moral conflict on your part.” He eyed Jamie as he said this.

“Not to worry Colin, I have opened my home to Mrs. Randall as a Sanctuary. If she still deems it suitable, she is more than welcome to stay in my guest room. Or I can call upon a friend or two of mine, a Mrs. Glenna Fitzgibbon’s and her husband Gerald, or even Mrs. Moira Graham and her husband Alexander. I’m sure either couple would be happy to host Mrs. Randall until the time comes that she can ascertain lodgings for herself after the divorce proceedings.”

Judge Fairbairn nodded and looked to the bishop. “Do you agree with any of these selections, Mrs. Randall?”

I nodded. “I will be happy to continue to stay with Mr. Gowan. If he feels that my presence is a burden I will happily go with one of his other options. I just wish to do this in the fastest way possible.”

Both the judge and bishop nodded. “I see no objections to any of the proposed homes. I do not know of the Graham’s, I believe they are Protestant, but Mr. and Mrs. Fitzgibbons regularly attend my home parish and would be excellent hosts. If Mr. Gowan continues to provide sanctuary for Mrs. Randall. I believe we can agree on these alternatives, Judge Fairbairn.”

He nodded in agreement. I felt the pressure lift from my chest.

“Mrs. Randall, if you would please sign and date this form here, and here, and this last line here.” I did as requested. “Mr. Randall, it is now your turn to sign the appropriate lines.”

Frank refused to move. In a move faster than expected, Anna fled from his lap and dumped him from his chair to the ground. “You are married? I should have known from your enthusiasm and the way your cock only lasts seconds!”

With that she left in a hurry. I couldn’t say a word. She just reconfirmed all that we needed in front of everyone who needed to hear it--Frank is an adulterer. I looked up to the sky and said a quick prayer of thanks.

“Mr. Randall, I will not ask again.” Frank begrudgingly signed the documents and went back to his chair.

“What now?” He grunted, taking a swig from the whiskey bottle.

“Now, Mr. Randall, you will go home and wait for the finalized papers to be delivered. It shouldn’t take more than a month. Then you’re free to whore yourself out to your hearts content.” Judge Fairbairn said.

Ned chuckled. “Come, Claire, we have one more paper to show the good Judge.” I looked at him puzzled.

“Colin,” he began. “Since you’ve approved and seen the appropriate paperwork for the divorce, I drafted this up as well. If you would approve this, then Mrs. Claire Randall, can once again be Ms. Claire E. Beauchamp. And with the bishop’s approval, she may continue to attend church and may one day again marry if the proper man were to arrive.”

“I see no problem with that request. Please hand it over.” Judge Fairbairn said.

Ned handed him the documents and with a flourish, the papers were signed and set aside. Judge Fairbairn smiled wide at me. 

“Congratulations, Ms. Beauchamp. In about a month’s time your divorce will be finalized, the papers sent to you, and you will be free to legally do as you please.” He stuck out a hand, and I shook it in disbelief.

“I-I-I-” I stuttered, speechless.

Bishop Adam stood and leveled a look at me. “I will grant the wish for you to remain with the church, but in this month as the papers are finalized you will be charged with one month of penance. Please attend mass at least three days weekly, volunteer within the church groups, or where you can find free work. Do not take pay. You may accept food compensation, but do not barter deals or earn money on your own. This is a time for reflection, what you are asking to do is against God’s will. However, since you were not the guilty party with adultery or abuse, you may come back.”

He touched my hands, “God be with you child, and please come see me at St. Mary’s. You will be welcome.”

The rest of the day was a blurr. The car ride back to Ned’s, the feast Jamie prepared, everything. I couldn’t focus on anything except the informal hearing. 

Free. I was free. 

On the spot, freedom! I never in my wildest dreams would have thought it possible, yet they granted it to me.

“What do you think Claire?”

“Hmm? What?” I said, finally breaking out of my reverie.

Jamie laughed. “What do you think of Ned’s house?”

“Oh! I find it beautiful, I’m going to like staying here.” I smiled at the two men.

“Good. I’m happy to have you! It’ll be nice to have a woman’s touch around here. Feel free to do with things as you please. I’m rarely home as it is.”

I laughed and turned to Jamie. “Will you be here often?”

Jamie looked into my eyes, I could see the pain. “No, Sassenach. I willna be here much.”

I felt my heart break. “But, why?”

“I willna hurt the chances of this divorce going through. What if they have people check up on you, or ask the neighbors? No. I’ll not risk our future for a month of seeing you. We’ve been parted for longer, Claire, we can handle a month.”

I felt a tear slide down my cheek and I nodded. “Yes, I understand.”

“We can always write?” He said more like a question, a hopeful boyish smile on his face.

“Yes. We can write.” I smiled at him.

“Believe me, mo nighean donn, the moment the month is over ye willna be able to get rid of me.” He smiled, placed a hand on mine and squeezed it lovingly.

“I’ll hold you to that soldier.”


	8. Life

_1 May 1948_

_My Dearest Love,_

_It’s hard to believe that nearly three years have passed since that fateful summer when you helped me become free. I look back on those days and shudder about what my life may have become had you not been there, lawyer in tow, to help me._

_Two years ago you asked the most important question of my life. Five months after the divorce papers were official, you asked me to become your wife. I cried with joy then, and I cry with joy now when I wake up tucked under your chin. You are the best thing the war brought me._

_Today I sit watching as you work the fields of this beautiful Scottish, estate and I can regret nothing. Everything that happened to us, each hardship, fight, separation, and event leading to this moment, I cannot regret, for it brought me to you and the ability to spend forever with you._

_Together we have built a home filled with love, a bond that nothing can break, and something infinitely more precious…we have created a life._

_Yes, Jamie, my love, a life. Not just the two of us living comfortably and in bliss, but a small piece of me and you. What I’m trying to say is that, my love, I’m pregnant._

_With all my heart, I will always love you; until the end of time and beyond,_

_Father of my Child,_

_Love of my life, Happy Birthday!_

_Your Sassenach_

 

I smiled and bookmarked the battered journal to this special entry. Hugging the journal to my chest, I crept out into the yard, found the cart Jamie and Ian were using, and laid the journal down for him to find. I could imagine his reaction as he read it; if I was lucky I’d be able to watch from the window or the dooryard.

Making my way down the hill towards the mill, I couldn’t help the fantasies of children playing, laughing, and filling the grounds with joy. Jamie would be the perfect father; strong, reliable, loving and stern all rolled into one.

“Ah! Good morning Mistress Fraser, how are ye on this fine day?” Old Mr. Crook greeted from the mill causing me to jump, my hand pressed to my heart.

“Good morning, Mr. Crook, I’m quite well, thank you.” I smiled at the elderly man and accepted the bag of grain proffered to me.

He smiled a gap-toothed smile, “Tha’s verra well indeed! Is today no yer husband’s birthday?

I nodded.

“I’m sure ye have something special planned up your sleeve for him, aye?” He asked, a twinkle in his eye.

I blushed and grinned even wider. “I do indeed, Mr. Crook. Thank-you for the flour. I’m sure it’ll help make the most delicious pie crust for this evening.”

“Ye are mighty welcome, Mistress. If ye need anything at all, help cooking, cleaning and the like, just give myself and my wife a ring and we’d be happy to oblige. We may come in handy soon enough.” He winked and nodded to my still flat stomach.

“How did you—what?” I said flustered.

“Och, it’s naught for ye to worry about. It’s just a feeling; my Mam used to say I could tell when any female was breeding animal or human even when I was a wean.” With this he bowed and walked back into the mill, whistling a joyous sounding tune.

I shook my head, flabbergasted. How could he tell? If old Mr. Crook could tell, did Jamie already know?

I let the doubts and worries fly from my mind as I made my way back towards the house, and focused on the reaction I might see…if I made it back in time.

I set the flour down on the counter in the kitchen, peering out the window to where Jamie’s cart and tools sat. My timing had been perfect. I managed to catch Jamie thumbing open the journal to read the entry. I was too far away to see his expression, and he turned his back to the house, but I knew the moment he discovered the news. His head whipped around to the house, his smile visible from here. He jumped up, yelling to Ian that he needed a break, and took off at a sprint for the house.

Quickly, I looked away, and began sifting the flour and pulling ingredients down to make Jamie’s strawberry rhubarb birthday pie. The kitchen doors crashed open. The smell of sun warmed skin, dirt, and musk–that was purely Jamie–enveloped me as he lifted me from the ground.

“A bairn? You’re wi’ bairn, Claire?” He asked in a fast, high-pitched yell.

I nodded, kissed his forehead and said, “Yes. I’m pregnant.”

He let out a whoop of delight and spun me around the kitchen. I laughed and hugged him close, my own joy radiating from me. He pulled me down into a heart-stopping kiss, the corners of his mouth still curved in a smile.

“Happy Birthday, Jamie,” I said, mid-kiss.

“Ye’ve given me the best birthday present I could have asked for!”

Resting his forehead on mine, his bright blue eyes bored into my own. Happiness, excitement, and overwhelming love was all I could see and feel from him. I smiled back into his eyes, and kissed him reverently. He pulled me even closer to where I was meant to be, safely secured in his arms, my face resting on his chest, his head resting on top of mine. Everything was as it should be.


End file.
